An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach #1)(112)
When the lead car approached the bookstore, it stopped, and Alexis jumped out.
“Alexis!” Daisy jumped up and down with joy to see her new friend. Alexis ran to the side of the street and picked up the three-year-old, apparently as happy to see Daisy as Daisy was to see her.
Maggie gave Brett a thumbs-up before he drove away, leading the parade around the corner toward Prescott Street and the route that would wind the parade all through Wyndham Beach.
“Where’s Chris this weekend?” Liddy asked Emma.
“He’s doing some holiday charity concert out on the West Coast.” Emma’s exasperation was evident. “I just wish one time he’d say no to one of those big gigs that always seems to fall on a holiday weekend. Just once I’d like him to be home. Just. Once.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Em. What does Wyndham Beach have that can compete with the life that boy is living? He’s an international celebrity, and you need to remember that and what it means to be one of the most eligible bachelors in the world,” Liddy told her.
Maggie watched Natalie’s face as she listened to the exchange.
Oh, sweetie, we all love Chris, we really do. But please, don’t . . . In that moment, Maggie feared for her daughter’s heart even more than she had when Jonathan had walked out on her.
Almost defiantly, Natalie turned on her phone and started to record the parade as it passed by.
“Saving Daisy’s first Wyndham Beach glorious Fourth?” Maggie asked.
“No. It’s to send to Chris so he can see what he’s missing,” Natalie said.
“Oh.”
“He asked me to, Mom.” There was a touch of challenge in Natalie’s voice, as if she expected Maggie to question Chris’s interest in his hometown parade. “He really hasn’t forgotten where he came from.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of watching it.”
Natalie resumed her video as the marchers filed by, and Maggie wondered just how interested Chris would be in seeing the local DAR float and the float honoring the one-hundredth anniversary of the founding of the Wyndham Beach Historical Society, or the floats for the local cultural alliance, followed by a flatbed truck carrying several of the teachers from the art center, displaying representative samples of their work. A contingent from the local Vietnam Vets marched by, and there were the usual fire trucks with volunteer firefighters riding on the backs, tossing candy to the children along the route. The widely acknowledged highlight of the parade was the Alden Academy Faculty Marching Kazoo Band, composed of teachers and administrators of the local prep school. There were seemingly miles of kids on bikes decorated in red, white, and blue crepe paper streamers. The junior high marching band, playing an off-key version of “The Stars and Stripes Forever,” brought up the rear, followed by one lone police vehicle, lights flashing, no siren, to officially mark the end of the parade.
“Remember when we used to ride our bikes in the parade?” Liddy came up behind Maggie and put an arm around her shoulder. “We’d wrap them in miles of crepe paper, and if it rained, we’d be covered in dye.”
“And the dye would get on our clothes, and our mothers would be all over us for it,” Emma said. When neither Liddy nor Maggie commented, Emma frowned. “No? Just mine?”
“I’m afraid so.” Liddy patted her on the back.
“So what’s next on the agenda, Mom?” Grace asked.
“Footraces in the park.” Maggie gestured toward the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. “Just follow the crowd.”
The crowd spilled into the street and undulated like a fat snake as it headed for Harrison Park, where the festivities would continue. The park was on the grounds of the old Harrison mansion. Built in the late eighteen hundreds, it was unlike anything the residents had ever seen, in parts Gothic, Victorian, Tudor, and Georgian in architecture, depending on the side of the house viewed. Other than the staff in residence—on call when someone was there, otherwise acting as security and maintenance—no one in recent memory had been inside, though it had been the object of speculation for years.
Jasper Harrison had set aside five acres of his vast holdings to be used as a park for the residents of the town, with money from the estate earmarked to maintain and add to it as the town council requested. There was a set limit to what they could spend, but it had been more than adequate. Over the years, they’d added an elaborate wooden play structure for children, a ball field, and a gazebo, which had been intended to be used for summer concerts, but which served only as a backdrop for wedding and prom pictures. No one remembered a concert ever having been held there.
Every year on the Fourth of July, the park overflowed with locals and their visiting friends and relatives. The American flag was raised as the crowd pledged their allegiance. Then the high school band played “The Star-Spangled Banner,” which everyone was expected to sing. The president of the local Boys & Girls Club then announced the order in which the footraces would be held, from the youngest to the oldest, and pointed out the area where the runners were to gather. The script hadn’t changed since Maggie was a girl.
Jamey declined to participate, despite his father’s reminder he was one of the fastest kids in his grade, but Lulu ran with her age group, easily outdistancing the next closest runner. She proudly returned to the group, holding up the blue ribbon and small trophy to her father and her brother, who’d been mostly silent since his arrival. Alexis, who had possibly the longest legs Maggie had ever seen on a young girl, like Lulu, outran everyone else in her field.